


remind me of what i really am (are we having fun yet?)

by hyunseungs



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Anal Sex, Begging, Crying, Degradation, Exhibitionism, Face-Fucking, Hair-pulling, M/M, Makeup Sex, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Smut, i guess?? does it count?? who knows, ok i think thats it but basically i have sinned big time, phew ok here we go ummm, sir kink And hyung kink yeeyee, woojin is rlly rough and hard at the start but he softens out for his baby
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-03
Updated: 2019-02-03
Packaged: 2019-10-21 10:16:49
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,296
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17640884
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyunseungs/pseuds/hyunseungs
Summary: All Chan wanted was to break him. Wanted him to snap.





	remind me of what i really am (are we having fun yet?)

**Author's Note:**

> hello i need a good cleanse enjoy
> 
> title from nickelback’s how you remind me

All Chan wanted was to break him. Wanted him to snap.

 

He’s seen, and heard, the way Woojin fucks Minho. The way he does is indescribable. Chan’s never experienced that side of Woojin in bed, and it makes him quiver to think about it, the way Woojin’s voice goes octaves deeper, how he seems to barely give any respect to him, resorting him to a whimpering mess underneath him. He manhandles Minho around with no care in the world, marks him up for everyone to see and Chan hears the way he makes him beg out loud, he hears the broken moans and the sound of the bedframe banging against the wall with the speed he goes at, some of the things he calls him makes Chan’s head swim.

 

But he won’t do any of that with him. And Chan hates it. He loves soft Woojin, don’t get him wrong. But he wished Woojin would give him... a little _more_. He could take it, and it’s all he craved. He wanted to see that side of him, wanted to see how far his limits went before that certain glint shone through his soft eyes, turning them stern and dark.

 

So, he tries with all his effort to hit the one spot in Woojin, he fumbles for the certain buttons to push after much trial-and-error.

 

He tries for weeks. Every time he gets the chance, his hands are all over Minho, and even some of the unsuspecting others. They mainly think that he’s just being weird and clingy, but they don’t need to know the real reason anyways. He walks around the dorm dolled up in makeup and slutty outfits, doing anything in his power to try to get Woojin to notice it, he plays the jealously card, but the other boy pays no mind. It drives Chan crazy.

 

There are times when Woojin even brings his antics up, but he still doesn’t do anything about it. He warns Chan softly, pointing out how cute it is that he’s so desperate to try to get under Woojin’s skin. He reminds him that he isn’t angry, but he also isn’t any fine china, it’s not that simple to get to him. He leaves it at that, all while gently peppering kisses down his chest.

 

Chan is sick of _gentle_. He _knows_ what Woojin is capable of. And he’s so, so frustrated that he won’t give him what he wants, though he knows well enough what Chan is doing. He plays along, lets the younger boy have his fun. It’s amusing, really, watching how desperate he gets with his attempts.

 

It’s one evening that he finally snaps, one where members sat in their living room in a heap, either on the couch or the space they cleared on the floor. They were watching a movie, a foreign movie Felix recommended from the 80s, some mystery-comedy. It blares through the speakers, the room pitch black save for the artificial glow of the TV screen.

 

Woojin didn’t need to pay attention. He couldn’t. Not with what he could see in the corner of his eye.

 

Chan sat perched in Minho’s lap at the end of the couch. He wore a silky white blouse that hung low on his shoulders, unbuttoned to the third button, leaving his collarbones out to show. He dons skin tight spandex shorts over top of leather garters, and sheer black thigh-high socks to top it off. He did up a bit of makeup: eyeshadow and mascara making his eyes sparkle in the light, and a bit of red tinted lipgloss that made Woojin quite frankly stare.

 

He turns back to the screen, but not focusing for long when he sees Chan’s hips slowly rutting on Minho’s thigh. He was pathetically hung over his lap, really. His arms wrapped around Minho’s neck as he speeds up his thrusts, whining into the younger boy’s neck.

 

Minho’s eyes don’t leave the screen, but he indulges Chan anyways. His hands skim up the sides of Chan’s waist, slightly tugging his shirt out of the waistband of his shorts. He presses his lips to Chan’s ear, and the boy above him can feel the smirk painted on his features.

 

“Woojin-hyung is watching you, Channie. Watching the way you’re pathetically making a mess of yourself on my lap. I know what you’re trying to do, but it’s not as simple as you think to crack him. I see how you’re finding every way you can to try to get to him, it’s cute.” Minho glances over in the direction of said boy, smiling over at him smugly as he watches the way Woojin’s eyes don’t even regard his, instead cast over his shoulder at the brown haired boy writhing above him.

 

“You should see his face,” he whispers, voice low and husky in Chan’s ear, moving back to nip at Chan’s jawline. Chan shivers, and makes the mistake of directing his eyes across the room to meet Woojin’s. Woojin battles Chan’s gaze, his a strong, intimidating one, while Chan’s a teary, nervous, but determined one. Seeing the way Woojin is watching him, his chin resting in the palm of his hand makes Chan stutter out a giggle and grind particularly hard into Minho’s lap, shoving his face into Minho’s neck to muffle the moan that escapes afterwards.

 

Minho grips Chan’s waist tight, making a _tsk_ - _tsk_ noise into his ear. Minho glances quickly to his right, smirking at the look on the eldest’s face.

 

“I think you’ve finally won, Chris.”

 

With that he lets off, directing his full attention back to the movie in front of them. He leaves Chan a trembling mess in his lap, as he nervously casts his eyes back over to where Woojin is sitting once more.

 

When he meets his eye, he notices Woojin’s expression had taken a complete turn from before. He looks calm, but Chan knows better. It’s the same look he gives Minho, the one he’s been craving this whole time.

 

He looks furious, and Chan shakes with excitement. He can’t contain his grin.

 

They don’t break eye contact, even as Woojin rises to his feet. He simply beckons Chan with a finger, before turning his back to lead the way towards his bedroom.

 

Chan gets up on shaky legs, and nobody really notices. It’s far too dark and loud for anybody to really care, so he slips away easily.

 

The noise of the movie slowly fades away, but maybe it’s just the sound of Chan’s heartbeat in his ears that replaces anything else. Woojin’s room is at the end of the hallway, and Chan tentatively steps inside.

 

Once he’s through, Woojin silently shuts the door behind them. Chan is facing away from him, but in no way does that protect him from what’s to come. Woojin grabs a fistful of Chan’s curly locks, and shoves him against the nearest wall. He lets out a heavy, broken moan, one long held in and Woojin simply grinds his hips into Chan’s ass, nudging his nose into Chan’s jaw.

 

“This is what you wanted the whole time, isn’t it? Pathetic. I noticed how hard you tried to break me, you can’t even keep your hands to yourself. I know you’re jealous of the way I fuck Min,” he says, raspy and deep in Chan’s ear, he feels his hot breath fanning against his neck.

 

“I’m not sure you really want to mess with this side of me, Chris.” _Chris_. Woojin had never called him Chris before, nevermind while they fucked, or with that tone he uses, and it makes his legs almost give out under him. He whimpers into the air above him.

 

“But I guess all you want is me to ruin you, is that right? Resort you into a pathetic little cockslut, have you begging for mercy on your knees, just like Minho does. That’s what you want from me, isn’t it?” Chan tries to nod an affirmative, failing against the grip in his hair. He trembles, he knows how easy Minho falls to the eldest, despite being beyond stubborn; refusing, _fighting_ his way out of submitting to _anybody_. In any context. He buzzes with excitement, he wants to know how Woojin does it.

 

“Words, slut.” He slaps Chan’s ass.

 

“Y-yes, hyungie. W-want you to—“

 

Another slap.

 

“What did you just fucking call me?” Woojin snarls, flipping Chan around to look at him as he cages him in with his arms, shoving a toned thigh inbetween the leader’s legs. Chan blushes furiously, gasping when Woojin presses hard into Chan’s already painful erection. He knows what to do, he’s heard this situation before.

 

“S-sir, I meant sir. I’m s-sorry sir,” Woojin simply reaches around with one hand to squeeze Chan’s ass, the other twisting one of his nipples through the fabric of his shirt. Chan writhes, pleasure pulsing through him at the harsh twists Woojin gives the nubs on his chest, and he bucks his hips forward unintentionally.

 

Woojin hums in approval at his apology and states, “Since you seem to want the treatment I give him so badly, get down and beg for it. Good boys don’t get things until they ask.” Chan wants to be good.

 

With that he lets go of the younger completely, stepping back a couple paces and watches him stumble down onto the floor in front of the eldest. His hands toy with the hem of his shorts, and he shyly glances up to see the older man scoff, and look down at him impatiently.

 

Chan swallows, he knows he should be speaking but he can’t find the words. Not with the way Woojin is staring down at him, not when all that floods his mind is the anticipation of whats to come. Chan knows he has to say something before he makes the older boy even more angry, but he whines instead.

 

He goes to try to speak, but chokes on a word when Woojin grips his chin and tugs his head completely up to face him better.

 

“Can’t even do a simple task? How do you expect me to give you what you want if you can’t even form words? So needy already,” he growls, shaking his head, watching the way Chan’s eyes slowly tear up, his frustration taking over because he can’t do anything but pant and flush deep red underneath Woojin.

 

“N-no sir, I—“

 

“Save it, slut. You want my cock, right? Something so easy to say, but I have to put the words into your dumb mouth instead. Pathetic.” He laughs, cold and lacking real amusement. Chan shivers.

 

“I’m not sure about this, Channie. You don’t seem to want it _that_ bad, when you can barely even ask for it,” Chan shakes his head frantically, whimpering. “I could very well leave you here and go back to that movie, you know. I’ll give you one more chance to ask politely, and maybe I’ll consider it.”

 

“Please, sir. I’ll be good, I will. Please, please sir. I deserve it, sir, please.”

 

“You _deserve_ it?” he laughs, “I don’t know, darling. I’ve noticed you really seem to like running your mouth and putting your slutty hands on everyone else, thinking your plan would work? Prove to me that you deserve it.You’re gonna have to give me a bit more, Chris. Please what? What do you want me to do with you?”

 

Chan’s tears now spill over slightly, and his erection is painful in his shorts.

 

“P-please fuck me, sir. Like you do to Minho-hyung. Ruin me, use me the way you do with him. I need it, sir. I’ll be good, I promise you I really will, sir. I-I need you to use me like the fucktoy i am— _God_ , please, please, _please_ fuck me.” Chan whimpers, teary doe eyes looking up into the dark ones that bore holes into his body.

 

Woojin hums, mulling the words over in his mind. He simply cards his hands through the younger’s hair, grazing his eyes over every bit of his body.

 

“Your _hyung_ , huh? What a dirty little boy,” he muses, smirking. Chan lives for the humiliation of calling the younger boy his hyung, and Woojin finds amusement in his words. Chan’s gaze drops shyly, but he forces himself to stare up at Woojin through his eyelashes once more, his head slightly bowed. Then Woojin’s grip tightens, and he pulls Chan’s head back roughly, leaning down on one knee to come face to face with the other.

 

“Well, you know your place, I see. Good boy. I’m going to fuck your mouth now, alright? And you’re gonna take it real good like the slut you are, is that clear?”

 

Chan nods frantically, batting his tear-clumped eyelashes prettily up at the older man. Woojin stands back up, and undoes the clasp of his belt, tugging the button and zipper open. Chan’s mouth waters once Woojin’s hard cock slips out of his briefs, and he instinctively opens his mouth. Woojin laughs once more, rubbing his tip against Chan’s glossy, bitten lips. He smooths back Chan’s curls, resting his hand just lightly on the back of his head.

 

He pushes in slowly at first, letting Chan get used to the thickness. Chan moans around Woojin’s cock, revelling in the weight and warmth of it on his tongue. He tries to move forward, but Woojin’s hand keeps his head still. He tightens the hand in the younger’s hair, twisting the strands firm within his fingers, before setting his other hand along the column of Chan’s neck.

 

He begins to thrust deeper, gradually speeding up, and Chan relaxes his throat the best he can. Tears of discomfort fall once again, but he tries to peer up to watch Woojin’s face contort from pleasure. He begins to speed up, throwing caution to the wind. The wet sounds of Woojin’s cock sliding down Chan’s throat, mixed with Woojin’s noises and the feeling of being so full and helpless, sends shocks of pleasure coursing through Chan’s veins.

 

“Fuck, you’re so good for me. You take cock so well, you’re such a fucking slut for something to shut you up, something to go down your pretty throat.” Chan lets out a choked whine around Woojin’s cock, choking on it slightly. Woojin just hisses under his breath, fucking in deeper. He thrusts shallowly, making sure to keep his cock deep in Chan’s throat the whole time.

 

Chan tries to lift shaky hands up to grip Woojin’s thighs, tries to make him slow down, but the elder growls in disapproval.

 

“Keep your hands to your sides, Chris,” he pulls out fully, letting Chan gasp for breaths and swallow the spit pooling in his mouth. Chan drops his hands, digging his fingers into his own thighs.

 

“Unless you can’t handle this? Unless you suddenly don’t want it?” he challenges, tone laced with mock sympathy. Chan whines again, high in his throat, and he straightens up to chase Woojin’s cock desperately.

 

“No, sir. No, no no no, please. Please, sir, I want it,” he cries, opening his mouth up even wider this time, eyes also wide and glassy with pleasure. Mascara tracks run down his cheeks, and Woojin makes sure to store every bit this memory clearly. How could he not, when Chan looked so pretty?

 

Woojin scoffs, “That’s what i thought, whore,” and shoves his cock back deep into Chan’s throat. He thrusts in as deep as possible, groaning at the feeling of Chan’s muscles contracting around him. He lightly traces the outline of his cock on Chan’s throat, and the younger whimpers out at the feeling. He gags a couple more times, trying to breathe slow through his nose.

 

“You look so cute stuffed full with cock, so helpless. You’re so dirty, Chris. Fuck, make me feel so good with your slutty mouth.” Woojin thrusts in a couple more times, before pulling out slowly with a quiet groan. He didn’t want to cum too early. He’ll save it for another day, Chan would look too pretty with cum dripping down his chin to ignore.

 

“Up. On your back,” he orders, pointing towards the bed. Chan gets up on shaky legs, before walking over to lie against the soft blankets. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, finding no use in it when he can’t clean himself properly; Woojin pins his hands above his head before he can finish. He kisses Chan deeply, hungrily, tasting his strawberry flavoured lipgloss until Chan’s lips are swollen and slick. Then he moves down his neck, biting many marks into his neck and exposed chest until Chan is crying out again, writhing and pleading over and over again for the elder to touch him.

 

“Please,” he whines, long and drawn out as he pushes his chest into Woojin’s hand, trailing down, down, down his torso. Woojin slips his hand under Chan’s shorts, sending him the cue to lift his hips so Woojin can slide them off his body.

 

His gaze darkens even more when he realizes Chan wasn’t wearing any underwear under the garters. His cock twitches, and he laughs lowly.

 

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me, baby,” he growls out, kissing and marking along the expanse of Chan’s stomach as he moves back up, up, up, unbuttoning the dainty top as he goes.

 

Woojin gets off the bed quickly, punctuated by the sharp whine that slips out of Chan’s throat. He chuckles, ensuring the boy that he’d be back. He moves to the drawer that he keeps his supplies in, picking out lube and a condom. Chan whines at him, shyly shaking his head when he glances over to see what the fuss was about.

 

“No condom?” Chan shakes his head.

 

“You dirty boy,” he makes a _tsk_ - _tsk_ noise, an amused smirk taking over his features as he tosses the condom back inside before moving back to the foot of the bed.

 

“Wanna get filled like the good toy you are?” he asks, stripping his clothes off.

 

“Yes, please, sir.”

 

What’s he gonna do, say no? Not when Chan sounded so pretty, looked so slutty and desperate to be filled, to be claimed.

 

“God, baby. It’s so hard to be hard on you when you’re so good to me. Minho’s a bad, bad baby. D’you think maybe one day you’d join us and show just how good you are for me? Wanna see hyungie fall apart from it? Make him regret that he’s such a brat, hm?” Woojin asks, almost conversationally, as he spreads and pushes Chan’s legs apart.

 

Chan blushes, it would be... _strange_ to be included in that way, be used as something to make Minho jealous. Usually he only was allowed to watch and get off to please the two. He wouldn’t know how to act, but it wasn’t a bad thought.

 

“Yes, sir. Yes, I-I’d like that— _O_ - _oh_ ,” his sentence is cut off by Woojin prodding a lube slicked finger past the tight ring of muscle in Chan’s ass. He holds Chan’s hips down from bucking as he curls the one finger up.

 

“Hmm, I’d like that too, Chris. But you know, you’ve been bad too. Don’t think I haven’t heard you moaning my name late at night, when you think I’m asleep. Touching yourself with no permission, throwing yourself all over the other members like the slut you are. Imagine if they saw you right now.” He slips in a second finger, scissoring and stretching him open.

 

“What would they think? Their leader, so desperate for cock that he goes around and drags his poor members into his own little selfish game. It’s cute, really. It’s a shame I’ll have to turn your pretty face into a sobbing mess, angel.” With that, he slips in a third, pumping them in, out, stretching Chan wide and abusing his prostate. He arches against the thrusts, whining loudly.

 

After stretching him wide, indulging himself in some more of the younger’s begging, Woojin quickly readjusts them, setting Chan up against the pillows and hooking his arms under the younger’s legs. He slips inside slowly, _agonizingly_ slowly, and Chan moans out the entire time. His voice cracks as Woojin’s tip rubs against his prostate. He thrusts in and out slowly, gently a few times.

 

Woojin pulls out most of the way, leaving just his tip in before rolling deep into Chan. He shakes, writhes, cries for more. Pleasure and adrenaline pumps through Woojin’s veins. He kisses Chan on the lips before pulling out once more, but when he slams back in he picks up a ruthless pace. Chan yelps into his mouth, and Woojin smirks against the kiss.

 

Chan babbles out nonsense, gripping the sheets until his knuckles turn white. Woojin doesn’t let off, doesn’t even slow down the pounding against Chan’s prostate. The bed was shaking, and Chan was louder than ever, but it spurred Woojin on even more.

 

“Pl-e-ase, f-fuck, s-slow do-wn,” Chan gasps, sobbing. So, Woojin complies. He slows back down to a roll, and Chan cries out for him to go harder. Woojin scoffs at how needy he truly is.

 

“You just can’t resist it, hm? I bet they can all hear you out there, Channie. Hear the way I break you, tear you apart.” Woojin leans forward, letting Chan’s legs fall beside his waist as he holds himself up with his arms next to Chan’s head. He bites along Chan’s earlobe, moaning right next to his ear as he fucks him with no remorse. All Chan can do is lie there and take it; he could barely think, barely form coherent noises, nevermind words. He chokes down whimpers, and pants into the air.

 

“You can be louder. Show them who you belong to. _Tell_ them who you belong to, Chris. If you want me to believe you can take it like Minho, show me.”

 

With that, Chan lets go completely. He screams out his moans, arching his back and throwing his face to the side of the pillow, just to snap it back the other way when Woojin hits his prostate again.

 

“I-c-can’t,” he sobs out, broken and pitiful. He attempts to cover his mouth, but Woojin pins him down once again.

 

“I don’t know if you could tell,” Woojin huffs out between his own noises, “but it was an order. Be good,” he warns.

 

Chan wants to be good. He wants to be good for Woojin. He has to.

 

“Y-you. I belong to you. Only to you, sir. You make me feel so good, so dirty and used, I’m just your filthy— _fuck_! _Please_!” Chan cries out, trembling and keening from the way Woojin feels inside of him.

 

“Good boy. Do you want to cum?” Woojin asks, his voice gruff as he bites more marks into Chan’s jaw to muffle his moans.

 

“Please, oh yes, sir, please let me cum!” he begs, letting out a broken chant of _yes_ , _yes_ , _yes_ , and _so_ _good_ , as Woojin releases one of Chan’s wrists to pump his neglected cock in time with his faltering thrusts. He moves his other hand down to grip the garters tightly, this giving him more ability to move quicker into the leader. He takes this time to admire how pretty Chan really does look; his chest is painted pink, as well as his cheeks. His mouth hangs open, an endless string of whines coming through. His eyes were shut, but his makeup smudged and leaked out from under his eyes. When he opens his eyes to look at Woojin once more, the purple glitter accentuates the tears falling out of the younger’s small eyes.

 

“Cum with me,” Chan shakes his head, whispering over and over that he can’t hold it.

 

“You can, baby. You’re doing so well, taking me so good. You’re so tight, making such pretty noises for me. Still want me to fill you up?” Woojin asks, his rhythm faltering, breath hitching as he nears his high. Chan lets affirmatives tumble out of his mouth, he can’t tell if he was whispering or yelling them.

 

He was yelling them, and he sounded so pretty with his broken, wet, desperate gurgles and pleads.

 

“Fuck, so good. Dirty fucking boy, cum for me,” Woojin fucks him through it, releasing inside Chan as he clamps down onto Woojin’s cock. He fucks him through his own orgasm, and he lets out loud groans into the air around them. Cum spills out of Chan’s ass, down his thighs and onto the bed as Woojin continues to fuck into him, and he lets out one final near-scream from the overstimulation taking over.

 

Woojin slows down, eventually to a stop. They both breathe heavily, coming down from their highs. Woojin pulls out, kissing Chan on the lips softly, gently.

 

He grabs wipes from the drawer, making sure to wipe Chan’s dried makeup off, the cum off his chest and out of his ass. He apologizes sheepishly when Chan hisses from the touch.

 

“You did really well tonight, baby. I promise you I didn’t mean anything I said. You’re always so good for me, I love you,” he says, climbing into the bed beside Chan. He pulls the blankets over them, holding Chan close. He gently combs his fingers through Chan’s hair, rubbing his scalp.

 

“Thank you, hyungie. I love you too. Thank you for tonight, it was really fun,” Chan mumbles into Woojin’s chest, resting upon his sternum and closing his eyes. Woojin rubs patterns into the younger’s arm, slowly dozing off with his cheek resting upon soft brown curls.

 

And if Minho happened to hear it while taking a bathroom break, if he stayed and listened in for a bit, amused at the leader’s desperation, they didn’t need to know it.

**Author's Note:**

> hope u enjoyyyeeed eeee ive had this unfinished for so long in my notes so i hope it was good sjdkkd i half assed it abt halfway so it was repetitive but whatever woochanners this was for u
> 
> nsfw twt: @slut43racha
> 
> ps! i may make a part two with minho, not sure yet though hehe


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